Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Casual’s Return 7 “Huh!” . : The hairy man heaved to his feet and crossing to a window, spat: therefrom. “Huh!’’ he continued, wiping his mouth. “T went into a place to buy me a little drink when I got off the train. Just a little drink to wash the coal dust outta my throat. ‘What’ll it be?’ says the dispenser. I took out my roll to skin off a ten spot I wanted to bust. ‘Where am I?’ I inquires. I was in a gutter sometime the next mornin’. Well, when I got outta jail I come here an’ turned in. This mornin’ it was.”’ “What did you get put in jail for?” asked Eadie. “They wouldn’t put you in jail for sleeping in the gutter. What happened? Did some one crack you over the skull or the bartender slip a sleep-berry in your booze or what?” “T don’t know what happened. I had a headache an’ there I was. Well, when I got up an’ found I didn’t have no penny in my pocket outta that hundred bucks, only a dollar I had in my shoe, an’ nothin’ to show for it, I felt pretty sore. I hunted a cop an’ told him all the sad yarn an’ he put me in jail. That’s all the sympathy I got.” “Aw nix,” laughed Eadie. ‘You mean you woke up in jail and dreamed it.”’ “No, I didn’t wake up in jail,”’ denied the hairy man. ‘That cop said something about my dreamin’ it an’ never havin’ a hundred cents an’ bein’ a army bum and like o’ that, so I leaned on his eye an’ not bein’ able to pay no fine for it—ten dollars for putting a hoop round his eye was cheap enough—I went to jail an’ worked it out.” The hairy man spat again. “Tell me,” said he, pointing to Eadie’s stripes, “they'll take them offa you, won’t they?”’ - “They might,” said Eadie, grinning. “Tt’s all in the game. They say it’s healthy for a man to shed his stripes every so often, like a snake sheds its skin, Any- way I’d get made again when I get back to my outfit.” “Well,” said the hairy man, “I’m glad I’m a buck. Nothin’ to lose an’ no respon- sibilities. All I got to do is to look after myself.’ “You’ve got the right idea,” agreed the sergeant. ‘““The easiest thing I know is gettingbusted. And for eight dollars a month difference, I can’t see the advan- tage.”’ ‘“‘Whyncha resign?” asked the hairy man. “Well,” answered Eadie, “that’s some- thing different. Just because I’m consoling myself in case I should get broke is no sign I don’t like to be a sergeant!” “You answer for me!’’ said the -other. “T wish I had a dollar for every guy that’s told me he could ’a’ been a corporal, only he didn’t want to take it. Yessir, if I had a dollar for every one o’ them, I’d go absent again this minute. I wonder when we eat. You don’t suppose they put us on bread an’ water, do your I never was in a strange mill before.”’ “No, no bread and water,” said the ser- geant. “Didn’t you get any dinner? I had some, such as it was.” “No,” sighed the hairy man. “TI didn’t have no dinner. I wasn’t ast nuthin’ only how would I like a good kick in the nose for not standin’ to attention for some looey. I ain’t got eyes in the back o’ my skull. And anyways I was thinkin’ of somethin’ else.” He chewed meditatively for a while. “When I can’t eat, I-can sleep,” he de- clared at last, and taking off his shoes and puttees, he lay. back upon the bunk and turned on his side. EADIE took off his hat and blouse. Ch He and the man on the other bunk were the only occupants of the room. Evidently the rest of the men were at work. Work! Eadie felt a slight falling away of his stomach. He knew what work they were probably doing. Spreading foul straw to dry behind the stables, sweeping out latrines, carrying garbage or washing greasy pans in the officers’ mess. _ Prisoners weren’t given the choicest jobs. The sergeant looked out of the dirty window, across to the next barrack. Flies boomed against the panes, and the hairy man breathed heavily in his slumbers. Beyond the next barracks was the barbed wire stockade, fortunately out of sight. “T fear,’ said the sergeant to himself, “that [ve bitten off more than I can chew. Suppose I spend about six months here pick- ing up paper and shoveling out stables?” — His eye lighted on his blouse, and the three stripes upon the arm thereof, sewed on very doggily with baseball stitch and red silk. “Suppose I have to kiss them goodby, too? I’ve held on to ’em like grim death to a dead chink for nearly a year and I’d hate to lose them now.” CoOMmicbhook Wh) C© 5}